Gamble
by Pocru
Summary: A short tale about a space pirate who gambles too much.


Disclaimer: If it doesn't have "EEZ MINE BEETCHEZ" written on it with cherry-flavored lipstick, then I don't own it.

Authors note: Well, its not normally my style to write Metroid fanfiction, seeing as a good share of the mythology I wont get to experience (I own the Trilogy Pack, and even then I've only beaten the first game and am working on the second), and Its clear that Metroid has a rather deep, intertwining storyline to it, but I think I know enough of the story to know that I really like Space Pirates. I mean, they're determined, intelligent, and each one (from logs and the like) have different personalities and opinions. Which is a rarity in video games: normally, a evil race is ALL evil, except maybe that one or two that become members of your party. Space Pirates have variety, and I like that.

Anyway, because of that, Im just gonna write this little fic. Inspiration hit, so I might as well as long as the inspiration juice flows.

PS: please judge lightly on the grammar. I know it sucks. T_T

~Gamble~

-A short tale from a Space Pirates perspective-

Gambling itself wasn't necessarily outlawed, although it was generally frowned on. However, gambling on-duty was. Which was unfortunately what I was caught doing in the middle of my shifts one unfortunate day on Tallon IV.

I had been stationed there a few months back, before the Frigate crashed. I was just your average grunt. I could work a computer, but just to send and receive messages. I was pretty unmotivated during combat training, but I was okay with a gun. My only real exceptional quality was my ability to do what I was told without question, and frankly in this society that's pretty much all you needed to be a grade-A soldier in commands eyes. Its not that I always agreed with what Command wanted of me, or that I was particularly patriotic, its just that its my job, and I have a wife and kid to feed, ya know?

Better to be blindly obedient then shot dead.

But anyway, despite my unquestionable loyalty to the cause, as it were, I still had that one glaring weakness: I couldn't say no to a pair of dice. My brother-in-arms had them on him, and we were both just guarding checkpoint B with nothing terribly exciting going on, so we decided to make the day pass quicker with a little gambling over rations. The dice were tossed, tears were shed, and ration passes exchanged. However, in the middle of our fourth roll, one of our more fanatic troopers caught us in the act and took it straight to our commanding officer. Busted.

So now I'm here as punishment with my gambling partner. In this dark, god-forsaken lab with only a force-field and a click of a button between me and a swarm of ravenous Metroids. It was dark, cold and somewhat terrifying thanks to the fact you couldn't walk a step without the Metroids following you like a fish would follow a finger. It was unnerving to say the least… but at least it wasn't boring. Hard to be boring when your partner keeps telling you horror stories of what Metroid's do when the clamp to your brain. It was annoying but I recon it was his way to cope.

It was our jobs to guard the place, give a warning in case the metroids somehow breached the force field, and feed the little critters. Feeding them was tricky, naturally, because the only thing that could go through the force field was special containers of artificial feed. The containers could go through the field without a hitch, but it always took a little time, five seconds at tops, for the energy shield to completely stabilize again. And let me tell you, in those case's, five seconds is a long time.

But as the day's wore on, it started to get okay. We were in a out-of-the-way location, and the few times we were ever interrupted in our shifts were when the science team had to come down to check on the buggers, or even take one out of containment. Those little visits were few and far between, so we were mostly alone. It allowed us to read, listen to music, and ironically, gamble, without being caught.

Unfortunately, gambling once again would be the bane of me.

It was an exceptionally boring day today. I had just finished reading _The Ultimate Soldier_, a Space pirate novel and thinly disguised propaganda book when my good "buddy" comes up to me and offers a game of dice. Apparently, we'd run out of the material that made the special containers for the metroid food, so we would have to feed them today by dropping the force field for a moment, pushing the food in, then basically praying like hell that you could get out before the energy-thieves realized that you were a greater treat than that fake stuff they were being fed.

Naturally, he wanted to gamble on who would be the lucky soul to push the food in, and who would be the one to open/drop the protective wall between us. Seeing no better way to decide, we rolled on it. And you can probably guess who lost. All but five minutes later I was standing at the threshold, my partner counting down till he would release the field so I could feed the alien beings.

3…

2…

1…

The wall of light between them and me disappeared. Those flying devils started to float towards the opining. At first, I was terrified, and rightfully so. I was stunned with fear, and it seemed that all those stories my partner told me finally sunk in. It was strange, because at that moment, every gruesome detail I had forgotten suddenly sprung back into my mind. However, I knew that if I stood still, I defiantly WOULD be the metroids next meal. So I took a deep breath and pushed the container of food in. The creatures swarmed the fake life-form before they swarmed me, thank god, and by the time they realized it was fake food I was already safely on the other side of the wall, breathing heavily and laughing hysterically. It was amazing how funny life could be when you nearly lose it.

After that day, I think my perception of metroid's changed. Sure, there was fear, there would always be fear, but… I guess I wasn't AS scared anymore. The next day we were still out of the crates that could go through the field, and this time I volunteered to do the same job. I pushed the food in. They swarmed it. And before they could sink their little jaws into me, I was gone. When the news came it would take 2 more cycles to get more containers, I just chuckled it off.

It was also during this time of basically hand-feeding the carnivorous creatures that I noticed they didn't really eat the fake food. They'd "nibble" on it, as best they can, that is, but they never ATE it. They must have been hungry after all this time,. I filed a report saying they weren't getting nourishment from the artificial chow, though naturally I got a reply saying that they already knew and were working on making a new kind.

Until then, I guess I'd have to get them some real food.

I asked permission from the science team if I could get some real food for them, and they agreed, saying they'd send a team out to capture some viable food. The next day I had a crate with a few weird, blue bulb-like-things with spikes on them. It would have been nice if the spikes were plucked out BEFORE they were put in the crate, but hey, it seemed the plant-like bulbs were nice enough to remove them for me in the form of shooting them off into my face. Needless to day, it hurt.

BUT after that, and a few hours of picking needles out of my skin, I was ready to feed the metroids their first real meal for a long time. 3, 2, 1, force field dropped, and I shepherded those blue bulbs into the metroids dwelling. Naturally, it was rather gruesome to see what played out before me. Those guys could be vicious when they were hungry.

But it was satisfying, in a way. I mean, not because I basically saw a bunch of plants get a slow and disgusting death, but because seeing something hungry eat… I dunno. I guess it brought out the humanitarian in me.

Two cycles game and went. There was a delay on the production. We had to keep feeding them by hand. Strangely enough, hearing that, I actually got happy. I started to look forward to work every day, because I was deriving some sort of strange affection for these creatures. I even started to think they might of liked me too. Suddenly, the fact that they followed my every move was less because they wanted to kill me and more because they liked me.

At least, that's what I told myself.

I fed them. They ate, they grew. Our punishment had ended and we were free to go back to Checkpoint B, but I requested to be transferred back to that cold dark abandoned lab. Seeing as no one else willingly went down there, they gave me the job, and a new partner: someone who was caught with a dirty magazine.

My new partner was scared. I reassured him best I could. He frankly thought I was insane, because I guess when I started to tell him about them I got this affectionate twinkle in my eye. But regardless, we mostly got along, considering I did all the metroid-related activities and left him alone with his collection of dirty magazines.

I think we both won with that arrangement.

A few days into my new official position, news spread and announcements were released that stressed that despite many attempts at such, Metroids could not be tamed, and we were reminded that they were not pets. I got slightly depressed when this news came out: If the people on the science team couldn't even get a metroid to not attack them, how could the metroid's I barely come into contact with ever think of me as anything more than dinner with a laser?

Still, though, despite the knowledge the critters would never like me like I liked them, I fed them. By now, the containers had finally been made and we were able to feed them without dropping the shields, so we had to go back to feeding them the equivalent of gruel. I felt bad, but I reminded myself that they didn't think of me as anything more than food. That helped a bit, but I don't think I could ever really dislike them.

A bad cycle turned worse when news quickly spread across the base: The Hunter had landed. There was a mixed reaction among the troops, ranging from paranoid fear to overwhelming eagerness. Now, don't get me wrong, I hate Samus as much as the next Space Pirate, and I very much want her dead, but more than wanting to see her die because she was threatening our mission, I wanted to see her die so she wouldn't kill me OR the metroids I cared for. It seems like every time we try to use Metroid's in our plans, Samus gets involved and kills everything that moves, so I had very little hope of either me or my buddies from being spared.

It was the average day, or at least, as average as it could be with The Hunter on the planet. I was patrolling the area by the force field, and my partner was on the ramp leading to the second story, for once not looking at magazines (probably because they were all confiscated) and actually patrolling the area around the computer.

Suddenly, the shield drops.

The metroids notice and swarm out. Gunfire instantly comes from my ally and a second source, probably Samus. The alien creatures float around, enjoying their new freedom, and it doesn't take long for them to notice me. I was very still. Silent. Shocked. Scared. A wide range of emotions overcame me that moment. A part of me was terrified that they would kill me. Another was scared that Samus would kill THEM. I sat motionless, not firing at the creature's that were threatening me. The words of my superiors rang through my mind… "Metroids cannot be tamed" "They aren't pets" "They'll kill you if you give them the chance". And yet, despite all the wisdom and truth in those words, something greater spoke in my heart. It was trust, and more than that, hope. I had loved those creatures for so long, feeding them, silently caring for them, and now it was time to see if they really were untamable demons.

I took a gamble.

They approached me, and I didn't raise my sword or my gun. My friend was screaming at me, asking what I was doing, but I didn't move. I loved them, I cared about them, and I formed a bond with them, I knew it. I would take this gamble. I would trust them to ignore me, to help me, even, with the knowledge I was in danger. It would be my final gambit…

…but, like always…

…It seemed the dice didn't roll in my favor.

~End~


End file.
